
Qass. 
Book. 



300DFWD/C 

jPASSIONPWoJNOW 




jrTRACY D.MY6ATT 

s/vitk introduction by 

OHNHWNES HOLMES 




GOOD FRIDAY 

A PASSION PLAY OF NOW 



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Tracy D^Mygatt 

author of "Watchfires", "The Noose' 
and other plays 



with an introduction by 

John Haynes Holmes 



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A^ A 



Copyrighted April 1919 
by Tracy D. Mygatt 



All rights reserved. For permission to pro- 
duce this play, application should be made 
to the author, 23 Bank Street, New York. 



PRICE, FIFTY CENTS 



GOOD FRIDAY, A Passion Plat of Now, was 
first produced at the Peabody Playhouse, 357 
Charles Street, Boston, April 19, 1919, under the 
direction of John Pratt Whitman and Eleanor 
Wood Whitman, and with the following cast: 

The Keeper John Pratt Whitman 

The Doctor James H. Dalton 

Ivan Harry Maximon 



A second production was given at the Central 
Music Hall in Chicago on May 14th, 1919, under 
the direction of David Douglas, and with the 
following cast: 

The Keeper David Douglas 

The Doctor M. L. Sorber 

Ivan Arthur Proctor 



To the 
CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR, 
Who builds today 
The Cooperative Commonwealth, 
The City of God. 



INTRODUCTION 



Miss Mygatt's "Passion Play of Now" deals with 
one of the most highly controverted questions of the 
Great War — that of the so-called "conscientious 
objector," who, for inward reasons of opinion or 
conviction, refused to obey the nation's call to take 
up arms and submit himself to training for battle 
against the enemy. It is an extraordinarily vivid 
and sympathetic portrayal of the spiritual issue 
which was involved in this problem, the lofty motives 
of love and brotherhood which were frequently at 
work, and the essential religious drama which was 
enacted in case of punishment and persecution. The 
author's skilful use of the Good Friday setting points 
its own terrific moral. Few persons, of whatsoever 
opinion on the "conscientious objector" question, 
will read this play without profound emotion; none, 
I trust, without thinking the problem through afresh, 
with real endeavor at least to understand. If Ameri- 
cans are still Americans, with sentiments unspoiled, 
however much disturbed, by the fears and passions 
engendered by the conflict against Germany, this 
play should do for "conscientious objectors" in this 
7 



Introduction 



country what John Galsworthy's "Justice" did for 
ordinary prisoners in England. 

It may be well to recapitulate briefly the circum- 
stances which led to the sorry situation which dis- 
graced the nation during the War, and still exists to 
its shame six full months after the signing of the 
armistice. 

When the Conscription Act was passed on May 
18, 1917, it was well known that there were a con- 
siderable number of citizens in the country who 
regarded war as murder, and military service as de- 
liberate training for murder. Congress itself recog- 
nized this fact by exempting from military and naval 
service "any person . . . who is found to be a 
member of any well-recognized religious sect or 
organization at present organized and existing and 
whose existing creed or principles forbid its mem- 
bers to participate in war in any form and whose 
religious convictions are against war or participation 
therein. ..." 

This provision was excellent, so far as it went; 
but it fell short in two particulars. In the first place 
it made the ridiculous ethical mistake of regarding 
conscience as a corporate and not an individual 
affair, and therefore of accepting outward member- 
ship in an institution (which might well be a matter 
of inheritance or accident), instead of inward per- 
sonal conviction, as evidence of reality. In the 
second place, it confined the action of conscientious 



Introduction 



scruples against war to the religious field, and thus 
gave no recognition to that large and growing class 
of objectors who are moved by political rather than 
spiritual motives. The former of these blunders was 
partially corrected by Executive Order of the Presi- 
dent (March 23, 1918); the latter inhered through- 
out the War, and is still working its havoc at the 
present moment. 

The real betrayal of the nation, however, appeared 
in the administration of the law, rather than in the 
law itself. At the very outset was committed the 
fearful blunder of handing over the "objectors" to 
the military branch of the government for treatment, 
instead of keeping them in the civilian branch where 
they properly belonged, and thus subjecting them 
to the insane and uncontrolled rigors of martial law. 
Hundreds of "objectors" were thus segregated, beset 
by orders which they could not heed, court-mar- 
tialled for disobedience, and condemned to ferocious 
sentences in miltary prisons. 

More serious was the almost universal suspicion 
with which these men were regarded by those to 
whose mercy they were committed. We now know 
that this suspicion was not justified. Major Walter 
G. Kellogg, of the U. S. Board of Inquiry, testifies 
that whereas in the beginning of his work he "firmly 
believed that they (the conscientious objectors) 
were, as a class, shirkers and cowards, ... an ex- 
amination of over eight hundred objectors in twenty 



Introduction 



widely distributed military camps and posts con- 
vinced (him) that they (were), as a rule, sincere — 
cowards and shirkers, in the commonly accepted 
sense, they (were) not." Nevertheless, on the 
assumption of their insincerity, these men were sub- 
jected to inquisition, and those most truly sincere 
and therefore unwilling to accept any form of 
service, non-combatant or other, given over to pun- 
ishment. 

The result was the almost complete defeat of the 
law, and of a well-intentioned government. Hun- 
dreds of members of religious sects opposed to war, 
specifically exempted by the terms of the Conscrip- 
tion Act, were put behind the bars; I have on my 
desk a list of three hundred and fifty-six at Fort 
Leavenworth on March 10, 1919. Hundreds of 
others, bravely sincere for religious or political rea- 
sons, were sentenced to long terms of imprisonment 
because of petty infractions of discipline, refusal to 
obey military orders, or failure to satisfy the Board 
of Inquiry. Control by the military led inevitably 
to persecution and torture. Solitary confinement, 
midnight baths under ice-cold showers, beating up 
by armed guards, immersion in the filth of latrines, 
assaults with fists, clubs, fire hose — numerous in- 
stances of these horrors are on record. A few men 
died from oppression, many sickened or were dan- 
gerously injured, all suffered cruelly in mind and 
body. Nothing depicted, stated, or suggested in 



Introduction 



this play is an exaggeration. And the crime of these 
men, in most cases, was simply that of "taking Jesus 
at His word!" 

Now the War is over, and many of these men have 
on one pretext or another been released. Many, 
however, are still languishing in jail, with little pros- 
pect of release. Their one hope is amnesty, imme- 
diate and universal; and to this end should all who 
love America, and would keep her free from shame, 
now work untiringly. There is no conceivably 
worthy motive in keeping these men longer behind 
prison walls. Their punishment vindicates no law, 
acts as no deterrent upon others, exerts no redemp- 
tive influence upon themselves. Every principle of 
justice, every plea of mercy, every ideal of America 
and purpose in her battle against Germany, clamors 
for their release. Only vengeance and the still un- 
sated passion of war, bar their passage to freedom. 
If these men are forgotten by their fellows, or con- 
demned by deliberate judgment to a continuance of 
their misery, there can be only one conclusion drawn 
— that is, that all the conscience there is in America, 
is now in prison! 

To avoid this shame, as well as to deliver these 
martyrs to conviction, Miss Mygatt has written 
this play. "If any man has ears to hear, let him 
hear"; and hearing, let him act. 

John Hatnes Holmes. 

New York, May 8, 1919. 



GOOD FRIDAY 

A PASSION PLAY OF NOW 



SCENE 

The corridor before a cell in a Military Prison. 

TIME 

Before dawn, Good Friday 

PERSONS 

The Keeper, 
The Doctor, 
The Sacrifice (Ivan). 



13 



14 Good Friday 



The scene is the draughty stone corridor of the 
north wing of the prison. As the curtain rises, 
what was at first perceived as pitchy black is shot 
with flickering lights, and the voices of two men are 
heard, as they stumblingly approach; for an in- 
stant, still invisible, they pause, apparently to 
unlock a door off left, for a heavy, grating sound 
is heard. Then they come on, Keeper and Doctor, 
stopping before the iron door, centre, which is the 
entrance into the cell whose inmate they have come 
to visit, and upon which begin to play grotesque 
shadows from the lantern in the hand of the 
Keeper. His face, too, when caught in its rays, 
reveals aspects curiously remote from the conven- 
tional masque his occupation would suggest; sen- 
sitive aspects, unhappy scepticisms and swift 
recalcitrancies making him, to the discerning eye, 
almost as anomalous in his setting as is the doctor, 
with his cold, cruel lips, and the shifty glance that 
mocks its owner's boasted therapy. In the voices 
of both, beneath the bravado of the one and the 
quick servility of the other, lurks the deadliest of 
the prison blight, — fear. 



A Passion Play of Now . 15 

DOCTOR 

[Irritably, as he approaches from the left] 

Damn him! What does he want, this time of 

night, 
Dragging me from my bed — ? 



KEEPER 

[Hastily] 

It wasn't him! 
He didn't ask for nothin', sir! 'Twas me! 
He never asks fot nothin' — that's the thing,— 
It makes you nervous — kind of creepy, sir, 
I thought you'd better 



DOCTOR 

[Brusquely] 

Well, let me in! 
Be quick about it, too! It's beastly cold 
In this north wing! 

KEEPER 

Yes, sir, at once! At once! 
[He does not move] 



1 6 Good Friday 



DOCTOR 

[Testily] 

Well, then, why don't you? You're cold, too! 

Why, man, 
Your teeth are chattering, and your hands — 

KEEPER 

Please, sir, 
It's not the cold — ! 

DOCTOR 

Well, spit it out! 

KEEPER 

It's— it's— 
[He stops, unable to say more.] 

DOCTOR 

[Shaking him by the arm] 

What is it, man? Your face — do you know, 

Jack, 
You look — it's that queer light, there is, of 

course, 
Your silly trembling hands flinging the green 

rays 



A Passion Play of Now 1 7 

Of your night-lantern so about — ! You look 
As if you'd seen a ghost ! 

KEEPER 

[Swiftly] 

Oh, no, no, sir! 
I never seen a ghost ! I don't believe 
In no such nonsense ! Dead is dead, I say, 
And quick is quick! 

DOCTOR 

[With a laugh] 

Well, if he's quick in there, 
[with a jerk toward the closed door] 
It's more than you are — out! 

[Seizing him roughly] 

Make haste ! 

KEEPER 

[With a violent shiver] 

Don't! Don't! 

DOCTOR 

[With ironic curiosity] 
Don't what, you fool? 



1 8 Good Friday 



KEEPER 

{Too frightened to resent his tone] 

Don't joke! Don't laugh! Remember 
What night this is, sir! 

DOCTOR 

[In extreme irritation] 

What—? Will you unlock? 
Or must I take the key myself? [Mockingly] 

"What night?" 
You stand there asking that, this time of night, 
Until I'll root to the spot in a minute, 
Just like you! "What night?" A hell of a night 
If you want my views — ! 

KEEPER 

[With a shudder] 

May God forgive you, sir, 
For saying such a thing — and here — [very low] 

where he 
Could hear you ! 

DOCTOR 

[Jeeringly] 
Hah! Not through that door! 



A Passion Play of Now 19 

KEEPER 

Hush, sir! 
It might be — 

DOCTOR 

[Cutting in with a jeer] 

And he'd be shocked at me? Christ! 
I am to mind my language for a slacker! 
Is that it, Jack? And be yanked out of bed 
Because you think he needs a pill — the cur — 
That stands all day above his uniform, 
— The glorious garb that most men honor — 

love — 
And he won't touch to save himself from tor- 
ture! 
Too good for it he thinks himself! The fool, 
To court starvation rather than wear it! 
Think of it, Jack ! You know some day he'll die, 
Even he can't live forever on such fare, and — 

KEEPER 

[Desperately] 

No, no! Not that! Take it back, sir ! Take it 
back! 



Good Friday 



Not die ! Not in my time ! [Very low] I couldn't 

bear 
To've been the Keeper of a man that died — ! 

DOCTOR 

Stow it! Don't many die? Nor my fault, either, 

All the doctors going can't save a man 

Once prison really gets him! Odd thing, that, 

How you don't need capital punishment 

To do the work! — Now open up, Jack, quick! 

KEEPER 

[To himself] 

Not die! Not with that face! I don't know 

where 
I've seen that face before, but — 

DOCTOR 

[Impatiently snatching the key from him and 
with cold fingers twisting it in the great lock 
of the door.] 

Damn! It's stiff ! 
It won't budge! Here, you — lend a hand! 
Look here, 



A Passion Play of Now 



I don't believe you were made for a keeper ! 

If you don't hurry up I'll have you fired ! 

Or [Suddenly wheeling about and staring into his 

eyes] 

or would you rather I went back again 
To bed? 

KEEPER 

[Taking the key in frantic haste] 

No, no! I'll open, sir! I'll open! 
[Slowly the lock yields to his pressure and the 
heavy door begins to swing open. For a mo- 
ment, himself seeing what is within and is as 
yet invisible to the other, the Keeper stays it 
in his hand, turning upon the Doctor wide eyes 
of incredulous wonder.] 
And it Good Friday, sir! Good Friday! 

DOCTOR 

[Contemptuously] 

Well—? 
[Then, unable or unwilling to speak further, the 
Keeper allows the door to swing wide open. At 
first it seems as if one were gazing into void; 
then, as the blackness yields to the dim rays of 
the lantern, one makes out the bars of a cage, 



Good Friday 



some six by seven, within which, below the tiny 
barred window high above his head at the back 
of the cell, there stands a man in scanty under- 
wear. One says "stands" rather in point of 
fact than of effect; for, though his bare feet rest 
upon the floor, just clear of the rumpled khaki 
that is his uniform, the arms, wide-flung like 
the arms of a cross, and the expression upon 
the tragic bearded face suggests a figure that 
hangs, rather than stands. And that it sug- 
gests the Figure upon the Cross is at once ap- 
parent in the startled gesture of the Doctor out- 
side the cell.] 

DOCTOR 

[Retreating a step further into the corridor] 
Good God! 

KEEPER 

[Quietly, though he trembles] 
Yes, sir, — like that each time I come! 
That's why— 

DOCTOR 

[Trying to recover himself, the prisoner through- 
out wholly detached] 

But he's not chained or — hung? 



A Passion Play of Now 23 



KEEPER 

No, sir! 

DOCTOR 

His arms are free? He can move them about? 

KEEPER 

Yes, sir. But every night, the last four days, 
After I've taken off the manacles 
That chain him to the bars — 

DOCTOR 

[Starting] 

He's chained all day? 

KEEPER 

[Stolidly] 

Them are my orders, sir, and very strict! 

[Then with sudden fierceness] 
I wish to God some other keeper here 
Had my job ! 

DOCTOR 

Hush! What were you going to say? 



24 Good Friday 



KEEPER 

[In a low voice] 

Well, every night this week I've found him — 
[with a gesture] so — ! 

DOCTOR 

[Restlessly] 
Why don't you tell him to lie down? 

KEEPER 

I have! 
I've begged him to, time and again at night, 
When I've come stealin' up like this! 

DOCTOR 

And what — ? 

KEEPER 

He only looks at me, and when he's looked 
A long, long time, sometimes he speaks and 
says — 

DOCTOR 

[Furtively regarding the prisoner] 
What does he say? 



A Passion Play of Now 25 

KEEPER 

He says, "I must keep watch!" 

DOCTOR 

[With an uneasy attempt at a laugh] 
And yet there isn't much for him to see ! 

IVAN 

[Softly but very distinctly] 
I must keep watch! 

KEEPER 

[Starting] 
There, sir!— What did I— 

DOCTOR 

Hush! 
Faking, that's all! Wants to get out of here! 

KEEPER 

[Eagerly] 

No sir, he never speaks of getting out! 
Nor of the beatings and them icy baths, — 



26 Good Friday 



You know, those months in camp before he 

came. 
It seems like he was very far away — 
I can't explain — you couldn't sir, yourself, 
There's things inside his head — there must be, 

sir, 
To give his eyes that look — 

IVAN 

[As before] 

I must keep watch! 

DOCTOR 

[Facing him insolently] 

On what? On us, you silly faking coward? 
No, sir, that's our job, Evetts here and mine, 
[in a business-like tone] 

Our job to watch you! Do you understand? 
[making a move forward] 

Here, now! Cut out that stuff! We've had 

enough! 
Put down your arms ! 

[As he does not move] 

Damn you, put down your arms ! 



A Passion Play of Now 27 



[Anxiously interposing] 
He don't obey no orders, sir ! 



DOCTOR 

I know! 
But I'm a doctor ! That's a different thing ! 
Perhaps he hasn't in the past because 
They were all orders from the Commandant, 
The Military orders they despise, 
These precious conscientious fools we've got, 
Corrupting other soldiers! — Well, go in! 
[With a gesture] 

Unlock those bars ! I guess he's weak enough 
For two of us to manage! [In a sharp whisper] 

You've your gun? 
You keep it with you when you come up here? 



KEEPER 

[Shamefacedly] 
Yes, sir, but he — 



28 GoodlFriday 



DOCTOR 

Don't talk! I'm loaded, too! 
[He draws out his revolver.] 

Go in, and put his arms down — then I'll come! 
[As the doctor covers the figure with his revolver 
and stands narrowly watching him, the Keeper 
unlocks the barred grating, Ivan still giving no 
sign that he sees what is going on, continuing 
to stare fixedly beyond; inside the cell, the 
Keeper hesitantly approaches him.] 



THE KEEPER 

[Unsteadily] 
Put your arms down — please ! 

DOCTOR 

[Furiously] 

Is that your method? 
Put them down yourself! 

[With an angry gesture] 

Like this — now do it ! 



A Passion Play of Now 29 

KEEPER 

[As before] 

Please, sir, — I — I can't! I couldn't touch him! 
[Swallowing hard] 

Not when he looks like — that — ! 
[With sudden passion] 

Oh, can't you see — ? 

DOCTOR 

[Angrily] 

See? Yes! A slacker! And either faking mad, 
Or perhaps — [coming closer] — perhaps — 

KEEPER 

[With desperate eagerness] 

Yes, yes! Perhaps, sir — ? 

DOCTOR 

[Insolently] 

Or perhaps really mad ! 

[Ironically regarding the horror on the other's face] 

What did you think 
That I would say, you superstitious fool? 



3<d Good Friday 



KEEPER 

[Softly, cowering beside the rapt figure] 

They all said that before, that other time, 
Or that He had a devil, or — 

DOCTOR 

[Starting, scarcely believing his ears] 

Damn you ! 
Stop it, I say! Or I'll begin to think 
You're in cahouts somehow, collecting cash 
From friends on the outside, to set him free! 
[Meaningly] 

And taking bribes' — a pretty serious crime! 

KEEPER 

[Hoarsely] 

I don't know what you mean ! I've never tried 
To get him out! 

[With shuddering self-realization] 

I am his Keeper, sir! 
His Keeper ! His! In prison ! Twenty years ! 
[With mounting wildness] 

But no one bribed me, sir ! It wasn't me ! 



A Passion Play of Now 31 

It wasn't me, I say ! 

[With passionate earnestness] 

I never took 

One single piece of silver, let alone 

Thirty—! 

[For a moment, with irrepressible fear, the 
Doctor regards him. Then, surmounting his 
emotion, still covering Ivan with his revolver, 
he leaps inside the cell, and reaches his hand 
to the Keeper's wrist.] 

DOCTOR 

[Jerkily] 

Hush, Jack! You're sick! You don't 
know what 
You're saying! Just come along with me, man! 
I'll fix you up with something in my office! 

KEEPER 

[As if coming to himself] 

I'm not sick, sir! It's him you come to see! 
[He goes quietly to Ivan and takes one of his 
hands in his.] 

It's hot, sir — don't you think you'd better feel? 



32 Good Friday 



DOCTOR 

[Talcing a step] 

Well, if you feel it hot — [softly] your own is fire ! 
[He goes to Ivan and takes his wrist reluctantly 
between his fingers. A moment passes.] 



DOCTOR 

[Under his breath] 

God! What a pulse! I can't count that! (To 

Ivan, more gently] Here, you — ! 
Lie down a bit! [Looking about] Why, where's 

your bed gone, man? 



KEEPER 

He's never had no bed, sir! You know that! 
Not since he's brought up here in solitary. 
Maybe that's why he stands. Of course the 

floor's 
Chock full of vermin here, spite of the cold ! 
They wouldn't send no blankets to him, either — 



A Passion Play of Now 33 

DOCTOR 

[Impatiently] 

Of course! [To Ivan] Why don't you be a de- 
cent soldier, man? 

Your conscience isn't different from the rest! 

It's all the same, you know, — just clay in the 
end! 

You can't go on like this — you're very sick — 

This business' got you nothing but starvation! 

You're young to die, and yet, if you persist — 



KEEPER 

[Imploringly, drawing closer] 

Don't let him die ! Please, sir, don't let him die ! 

[In a low voice] 

I beat him once — to make him mind — ! Oh, 

God, 
I'd die to undo it now! Don't let him die! 

[The Doctor looks curiously from one to the 
other. Then, as he steps back into the corridor] 



34 Good Friday 



DOCTOR 

[To himself] 

He's bitten, too ! Queer how a man's mind goes ! 
[Rousing himself] 

Don't worry! It's all right! I'll fix him, Jack! 
We'll go downstairs and 'phone the hospital; 
They'll have to send a cot! He couldn't walk 
After this foolish business he's been through, 
He's ready to collapse right now, poor fool, 
Or will, as soon as this trance-state is ended, — 
Then we'll put you to bed — 

[Starting violently as he sees the Keeper bend- 
ing over Ivan's hand] 

Why, Jack! Look up! 
What are you looking at? 

KEEPER 

[Kneeling and kissing the hand passionately] 

The nails! The nails! 
The print of the nails — ! 

[There is a moment of profound silence during 
which the extent of the Keeper's obsession per- 
haps first penetrates the mind of the Doctor, 



A Passion Play of Now 35 

though indeed, in the one startled and inquir- 
ing glance he flashes upon the tragic, far-seeing 
eyes of Ivan, and upon the hand the Keeper 
holds pressed to his lips, there is hint of a fleet- 
ing turmoil of his own. Then, as the man, 
overcome by the stress of his emotions and his 
gathering fever, suddenly falls forward, faint- 
ing, upon the floor, the Doctor forces himself to 
re-enter the cell, and gently tries to detach the 
inert body of the Keeper from that of his pris- 
oner, who still stands, cross-like, seemingly 
unconscious of the happenings about him.] 

DOCTOR 

[Gently tugging at the Keeper] 

Jack! Jack! Wake up! Wake up! 
[As he does not respond, he steals a furtive 
glance at Ivan, as quickly averting his eyes and 
redoubling his efforts to rouse the other; pres- 
ently realizing their futility, and himself un- 
pleasantly conscious of the strangeness of the 
situation, he begins to drag him outside into 
the corridor. This accomplished, with trem- 
bling hands he pulls to the grating and locks 



36 Good Friday 



it; then he looks dubiously at the big second 
door and shakes his head.] 

[To himself] 

The Prisoner's weak — better leave that alone, 
So that he'll get more air; and I'll be back 
With help in just a minute! 

[Resting his hand a moment on the Keeper's 



He's all right! 
Where's that lamp gone? 

[After a flurried search, he picks the lantern up 
from the floor, nervously examines it, and, after 
a shifty glance over his shoulder at Ivan, who 
responds in no way whatever, he hurries away 
down the corridor whence he has come, his 
nervous steps gathering curious significance as 
they re-echo along the stone passage-way, and 
the tall flickerings of the lantern making more 
sensible the thick darkness that settles over the 
place at his departure. For a long moment, 
after the vibration of his steps has ceased, there 
is silence. Then, into this silence, breaks the 
voice of Ivan, conveying in even the opening 
words a great tranquility.] 



A Passion Play of Now 37 

IVAN 

Come, little brother, Christ! 
They've gone away, the shadows that were 

here — 
And left me all alone, waiting for You! 
I am so glad to be alone again! 
Now I can talk — I couldn't talk before — 
I just stood watching. All the tortured things 
That cried to You on Your cross so long ago, 
I seemed to see them and to feel Your pain ! 
And others, too, I watched, and longed to help, 
Dark mysteries of torment; pitiful, 
Sacrificed, astonished, lost, and each one 
Young, with lovely dreams all twisted in his 

eyes; 
And some of them saw me, and raised their 

hands — 
Hands crucified and young, like Yours, oh, 

Christ!— 
And blessed me for the watch I kept; and then 
It faded — everything — and I was here. 
The man that comes most is so strange and sad — 
The one that brings me water — why is he 
Like that? Why does he weep? I'm sure he 

does; 



38 Good Friday 



He wept tonight, and moaned, and kissed my 

hand; 
From very far away I felt his tears, 
And tried to speak, but could not — only feel. 
And there are times he reaches out his arms 
As if I could assuage the pain within 
That seems to torture him! How can it be 
When he can come and go under the sky? 
The sky! The sky! Oh, little brother Christ! 
It's when I think about the bright gold sun, 
And the glad sky high up among the birds, 
That I think prison is a dreadful place! 
I wonder how much longer it will be? — 
One night, a little while ago, I think, 
I thought that I was home, under the sky, 
Ploughing the farm I gave to Sonia 
When we were married; and that she ran out 
Singing the song we used to sing at home, 
Over in Russia, when I was a child; 
She had our children with her by the hand, 
Sasha and Vera and the little one 
That only toddled when I went away; 
They too were singing, and I caught them 

close, 
And all of us stood singing, thanking God! 



A Passion Play of Now 39 

There was such sunshine over everything! 

I wonder if I could not sing the song? 

It might bring back the vision and the peace ! 
[There is a moment's silence; then, as the first 
gray light of morning is perceived to be seeping 
through the barred window behind Ivan's head, 
he very simply breaks into the opening lines of 
the Kolebalnia. As the song continues there is 
a faint movement upon the floor where the 
Keeper has been lying, and as it ceases, his 
voice is heard, hushed and awe-struck.] 

KEEPER 

Singing upon the Cross! How can it be? 
I must be mad, and yet I thought I heard — 

[He is dimly seen, raised on his elbow, gazing 

into the cell.} 

Yes, yes! Who are you? And why are you 

here? 
And were you singing? And where is the lamp? 
[Burying his face in his hands] 

Oh, Lord forgive me! I who saw the nails — 
To ask of you — ! Of you! — ! 



4o Good Friday 



IVAN 

[Gently] 

It is all right! 
Why are you frightened? You know He is here, 
Darkness and light are just the same to Him! 

KEEPER 

[Chokingly] 

Yes, He is here ! I've known it all along, 
But more and more each night — until I saw — / 
[softly] 

When will the Resurrection be? 

[Then swiftly, before Ivan can speak] 

No, wait! 
[Getting to his feet] 

I want to bar the door down there — 

[with a gesture, left] 

so he 
Won't come in suddenly! He'd only jest, 

[In sombre triumph] 

He didn't see the nails! He couldn't see — ! 
[He disappears for a moment, left, and the 
clanking of the door which was heard in the 
beginning is heard again, followed by the bolt- 



A Passion Play of Now 41 

ing of the same. Then the Keeper returns, 
fumbling in his pocket, presently producing 
something which when he has struck a match is 
seen to be a candle; this he lights and places 
upon the stone floor outside the cell, seating 
himself beside it.] 

KEEPER 

[Softly] 

It isn't that I'm frightened any more ! 
At least I think I'm not! I only want 
To see your face ! I want to see the love 
That's in your eyes — ! 

[Intently looking] 

Yes, yes, I do see now! 
How can one man love other men so much 
That he can bear to die — that way — like you? 

IVAN 

[Gently] 

He showed us first the way! 

[Then, as the bells of a neighboring church begin 
to toll for early service, the Keeper, too startled 
to catch the other's full meaning, cowers miser- 
ably closer.] 



42 Good Friday 



KEEPER 

[In a shaking voice] 

And now you will ! 
You will again — ! Oh, God, to see you die, 
Just when at last I might have felt your love! 

IVAN 

[Gently] 
Why should you think I'll die ? I've prayed to die 
So often all these months ! It's not the pain. 
I'm very sure it's not the pain I mind, 
[Wonderingly] 

It's thinking other men can torture so, 

Men that are brothers! — Hark! What are those 

bells? 
Are they real bells, I wonder, or just bells 
Making a sorrowful music in my head, 
Where sunlight dances on the way to the Cross? 

KEEPER 

[With painful eagerness, as he kneels beside 
the cage] 
That's it! That's it! They are the bells to the 
Cross! 

[In a hushed voice] 



A Passion Play of Now 43 

And me that used to want — oh, to remember ! — 

To be a priest, when I was still a boy, 

And deck the altar for the Sacrifice, 

And now — oh, now — after the twisted steps 

My feet have taken all the twisted years 

To kneel here now — beside the Sacrifice, 

The living Sacrifice — the dying Christ — ! 



IVAN 

[Faintly] 

Living — not dying! Surely Christ never dies! 
It is His love today — 



KEEPER 

[Breaking in] 

But on the Cross — ? 
[Pointing to the wide-flung arms] 

Your arms stretched wide — your word, — "I 

must keep watch!" 
Quick! Tell me what you meant — "I must keep 

watch!" 
You said it every night I came! And oh, 
How could you bear to seem a slacker — ? You — ? 



44 Good Friday 



IVAN 

[With painful pauses] 

I wish you'd asked before — it's getting dark! 
I had to watch over the tortured world, — 
I don't know whether I can make it plain; 

[After a pause] 
And that word — 

KEEPER 

"Slacker?" 

IVAN 

Yes; I've heard them say 
That word so often lately — well, no matter — ! 
[Suddenly, with passionate energy] 

I wanted to love back the world to love! 
I wanted to love back the world to love! 

KEEPER 

[Timidly] 
But Germany — ? 

IVAN 

[Spurred on by his spirit] 

Nothing but love can heal ! 



A Passion Play of Now 45 

KEEPER 

[With painful eagerness] 

And there are men — of course not with your 

face — 
Not even Christians, so they often say! 
Men here in prison, men that will not fight, 

"Slackers" they call them, just as they called 

—you—! 
They won't hit when they're hurt; they speak 

of love, 
— They call it brotherhood — ! What do they 

mean? 
They stay long terms; they won't betray this 

thing — 
What does it all mean? 



IVAN 

[As before, though by still greater effort) 

What I've said! Oh, brother, 
What does the name matter, so they do the will? 
They keep the watch — their watch and mine — 

[Suddenly raising his arms in ecstasy as a 



46 Good Friday 



shaft of light pierces the window, and shines 
upon his head.] 

Oh, God! 
The sunlight's coming — and my watch is ended ! 

KEEPER 

[In bitter anguish] 
No! No! Stay with me! 

IVAN 

[Radiantly] 

Little brother, love — / 
[Then quietly, without struggle, he sinks down 
upon the uniform at his feet, his arms uncon- 
sciously assuming their old posture, and his 
radiant face caught in the ray of sunlight. The 
bells, which had stopped, begin again to chime, 
this time a Gregorian chant to one of the Peni- 
tential Psalms, and the Keeper kneels quietly, 
his face against the bars. Suddenly a great 
knocking is heard upon the iron door, off left. 
The Keeper raises his head, at first in dumb 
bewilderment; then, as the sound grows louder, 
anger and bitter distrust rob his face of his late- 
found peace.] 



A Passion Play of Now 47 

KEEPER 

[Under his breath] 

Let him knock! 

[ Then, between the knocking, the Doctor's voice, 
off left] 

DOCTOR 

[Startled] 

Jack! Are you sick? Come! Open! 
[There is a further moment of suspense, broken 
by the continued knocking. Then the Keeper 
rises, and moves uneasily toward the door which 
he has locked, pausing often to steal backward 
glances at the dead body. For a moment he is 
gone, and his voice can be heard off left] 



KEEPER 

[Tonelessly] 

Please come alone, sir! Let the men wait here! 
[They reappear, the Keeper walking softly 
ahead, the Doctor following, a visible fear in 
face and manner, the flickering of his lantern 
overcasting him with curious gleams.] 



48 Good Friday 



DOCTOR 

But why — ? I'm glad you're better, Jack, but 
why— 

[Then, as he comes before the body, within the 
bars, lying on the uniform, its radiant, up- 
turned face white and still in the dawn, his face 
sharply changes; and with a cry, as if the ad- 
mission were wrung from him, he exclaims] 

DOCTOR 

The face of Christ—! 

[There is a moment of profound silence, the 
Keeper standing, with bowed head, beside the 
other, the tears coursing down his seamed 
cheeks. Then, with a terrible cry, he rushes 
forward.] 

KEEPER 

[Desperately] 

Yes, yes, the face of Christ ! 
But who am I, then? That's what I must know! 
Answer me quickly! Who am I? Oh, God — 
To know and love Him — only to be damned — ! 
[He breaks into dry, shaking sobs.] 



A Passion Play of Now 49 

DOCTOR 

[Touching him gently] 

What is it, man? You're overwrought! Come 

down! 
Get out of this! 

KEEPER 

[In a voice of anguish] 

Oh, to get out of the world — ! 
[Turning bitter eyes upon him.] 

Don't you know who I am? Since he is Christ — 
And I have been his Keeper, — killing him — 
Manacled, chained, betrayed to those He 

loved — 
Why — why — 

[Pointing with trembling fingers to his own 

breast] 

queer how I never guessed before, 
But now I know — 

[Beckoning the Doctor close and speaking in a 

terrified whisper into his ear] 

Judas Iscariot — ! 



50 Good Friday 



DOCTOR 

[Deeply moved, trying to shake off their mutual 
fear] 

No, no! He isn't really Christ, you know! 
[Wonderingly, to himself] 

— That's the queer part, now that I stop to 

think — . -' 

Doing this thing he did, not being Christ! 
— Almost enough to make a man believe — ! 

[Rousing himself and turning to the Keeper] 

But he's not really Christ — 



KEEPER 

[Brokenly] 

I cannot tell; 
I know he loved like Christ — that's why he 

died — . 
The way they kept him in that dungeon cell — ■ 
The beatings and the hunger and the cold! 
And I — that killed him — 

[In a desperate whisper] 

Judas — that's my name ! 



A Passion Play of Now 51 

DOCTOR 

[In a strange voice, looking straight ahead of 
him to the dead face] 

Not your name only, then! Listen to me! 
You didn't ask to have him here — ? 

% KEEPER 

No, no! 

DOCTOR 

But others did — you know that, don't you? 

KEEPER 

Yes! 

DOCTOR 

[With dry lips] 

Then don't you understand? 

[As the other makes no sign, he continues pas- 
sionately, as if moved beyond himself] 

It's all of us! 
It's all of us, — anywhere — everywhere — ! 
I called him "Slacker," "Coward," with the 

rest, 
And some of them will kneel in church today, 



Good Friday 



By the veiled image of the Crucified, 

With that name in their hearts, scorn for the 

man 
Whose crime is taking Jesus at His word — ! 
I did not know before — I may forget — 
But I know now, — looking upon that face: 
[Then, as the Keeper waits] 

We all are Judas — we that keep him bound — ! 
[And he bows his head, slowly sinking upon 
his knees by the barred cell. For a moment the 
Keeper regards him, as if pondering his last 
words, weighing, as it were, their relation to 
himself, and makes as if he too would kneel. 
Then, as if the very soul of him were repu- 
diating what is for him the too facile distri- 
bution of guilt, he wheels abruptly about, and 
stands facing the audience, his fingers twisted 
in the bars, in his sombre, tortured eyes and 
twitching lips, something of the self-horror and 
despair of the Betrayer.] 

CURTAIN 



